


The Education of Scorpius Malfoy

by DandyboyDaniel



Series: An Education [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Butchering French, Exhibitionism, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Experimentation Between Underage Boys, Sexual Situations Between Adults and a Consenting Minor, Sprinkled With Crack, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandyboyDaniel/pseuds/DandyboyDaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius is tutored in the art of seduction by an unconventional couple while summering on a French island in the Mediterranean. Albus will be pleased, but first sexual experiences rarely happen in the ideal way one imagines them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ajaccio

There was nothing more decadent than a fortnight on the French L'île de Corse at the Malfoy family’s summer villa, especially when it was just Scorpius and Nanna Cissy.  This particular summer, a persistent rash kept his younger twin sisters, Lyra and Hydra, home at Malfoy Manor along with their parents.  Scorpius’s grandmother was at complete liberty to spoil him without the disapproval of his mother and father.

‘Spoil’, however, was a relative term.  To anyone else, it would seem that Nanna Cissy was just allowing Scorpius to enjoy what any fifteen-year-old boy would during a beach holiday in the Mediterranean – ice cream, lengthy days swimming in the sea, laying on the sand, staying up past nine.  For Scorpius, these were rare freedoms.  Ironic, considering how truly spoiled his father supposedly had been as a child.  To say the least, Draco and Astoria Malfoy were very over-protective parents that found a hidden hazard in the simplest of childhood pleasures.

 

Scorpius and his grandmother had walked down from their villa in the jagged pink cliffs to the small members-only beach, L’Adrienne Plage.  It was a crescent-shaped swath of white sand that fronted a country club of the same name.  L’Adrienne was a rather simple and subdued little place, compared to the opulence of the Malfoy villa, but Nanna Cissy liked to socialize with the colorful muggle patrons rather than isolate herself on their own private beach.  She also thought it was good for Scorpius to meet other people and practice his French, which was minimal at best.

Scorpius was in absolute heaven right now.  He was eating a vanilla ice cream cone, sitting upon a towel on the warm sand beneath the late afternoon sun, decidedly not on a cushioned lounge chair sheltered under an umbrella.  Were his mother here, she would have shrieked at him to get off the filthy sand, get out of the direct sunlight, and _put on a hat for Merlin’s sake, lest you burn to a crisp_.  Furthermore, his father would have been bickering with his grandmother over the fact that she allowed him to have sugar, _and you know what sugar does to him_ (which is absolutely nothing.)  He had just spent nearly an hour in the water, frolicking in the gentle waves, unsupervised, while Nanna Cissy had a massage under the blue and white canopy of one of the cabanas on the pool deck.  As he licked the ice cream from the waffle cone, he giggled to himself, imagining how furious Father would be if he knew he’d been “alone” in the ocean.

He was so lost in sensation, savoring the sweetness of the ice cream, basking in the sun, relishing his freedom, and preoccupied with keeping his quickly melting confection contained, that Scorpius didn’t notice when another boy approached.  “Ne vous crachez ou avez-vous avaler?” asked the boy.

Scorpius turned to find the boy sitting next to him and politely admitted his inability to understand with a coy, apologetic look.  “Je ne comprends pas le Francais.”  It was one of the few phrases he could easily spit out, which usually excused him from having to use any more French in a conversation.

The boy gave a little laugh and said,  “Ah, quel dommage.”  It wasn’t a condescending laugh, but a light-hearted one.  Scorpius had learned that this phrase was akin to ‘that’s a shame’ after hearing Nanna’s friends respond this way when she had told them why the rest of the Malfoys were not summering in Ajaccio.

The boy looked a few years older.  If Scorpius had to guess, he’d say the boy was about seventeen.  Everything about him was gold, from his luminous, honey-colored curly hair to his glistening, sun-kissed skin.  Wearing tawny colored board shorts that hung low on his hipbones, he looked like he could be one of the young wind surfers Scorpius had seen at the other beaches – slender, with toned muscles.  But nobody windsurfed on this side of the island.

A man in a very small navy blue swimsuit came down from a nearby lounge chair and sat on the other side of the boy.  If the boy was gold, this man was bronze, with wavy, warm brown hair streaked through with blond ripples and shimmering, deeply tanned skin.  The man was covered in a sheen of tanning oil that made his skin and flaxen tufts of chest hair sparkle in the sun.  Scorpius’s initial thought was that this must be the boy’s father, though he didn’t look old enough.  His new companions appeared too distant in age to be brothers, but seemed to be quite familiar with each other.

Speaking proficiently with a pleasant, rolling French accent, the man said, “He’s trying to make a joke, but I don’t think you would understand it even if you were fluent in French.”  His skin wrinkled endearingly around his striking blue eyes when he smiled. He reminded Scorpius of the charming actors in the muggle films he watched with Albie at the Potters’ house – the ones who portrayed men that would sweep women off their feet and leave a trail of broken hearts.

Scorpius quickly licked a bit of melted ice cream that had strayed onto his hand and asked, “Why’s that?”

“It’s a crude joke.” There was a knowing gleam in the man’s eyes.

“Try me.  You might be surprised.” The corner of Scorpius’s lip quirked upwards before he continued to lap at his ice cream cone.

“Ne vous crachez ou avez-vous avaler?” the man repeated, and then translated, “My friend, Julien, wanted to know whether you spit or swallow.” He nodded towards the ice cream that Scorpius was so diligently eating. 

So the man was not related to the boy, Scorpius noted.

Scorpius gave a quizzical look and shrugged with incomprehension, “I haven’t the slightest idea what that joke is about.”  The other boy chuckled, likely sensing Scorpius’s cluelessness.

“He means no offense,” said the gentleman with a reassuring smile.  “Julien has just run out of good pick-up lines.”  The man said something to the boy in French, presumably translating what he’d just said to Scorpius.  The boy responded by playfully elbowing the man and snickering something in his native tongue.

Warmth spread over Scorpius’s already slightly sun burned cheeks.  This French boy was actually trying to chat him up. Quite caught off-guard, he could only reply with a simple, “Oh,” before busying himself with ice cream to hide his bashfulness.  Julien was indeed attractive, if not a bit old for him.  Besides, Scorpius already had a boyfriend.

Julien reached toward Scorpius, ran a finger along his wrist to collect a rivulet of ice cream that had dripped from the cone, and licked it with a coquettish grin.  If Scorpius hadn’t been toasting in the sun, he would have shivered.  Julien turned to his older companion and said, “Nous devrions l'inviter à le yacht pour lui montrer ce que je veux dire.”  When the boy’s gaze returned to Scorpius, he now recognized the look of favorable appraisal in his fawn-colored eyes.

The man nudged the boy’s arm and teasingly chided, “Coquin.”  He translated for Scorpius again, “Julien wants you to come to our boat so he can show you what the joke means.”

Scorpius raised an eyebrow with interest.  “Boat? What sort of boat?”

“I’ve got a sailing yacht in the marina.  Come for a ride with us if you’d like,” offered the man.  It seemed harmless enough. Scorpius had been taught to be wary of strangers, but Nanna Cissy trusted people at L’Adrienne.  So why shouldn’t he?

“I would, but I don’t even know you,” said Scorpius, devoid of suspicion, merely stating a fact.

The man dipped his head in apology and introduced himself.  “Pardon my rudeness.  Guy Levesque.  Visiting from Marseille.”  He extended a hand for Scorpius to shake, though Scorpius had to do so awkwardly with his unoccupied left hand. 

“Scorpius Malfoy.  From Wiltshire.  England.”

“Ah, Malfoy.  I know your grand-mère, Narcissa.  Lovely woman,” admitted Guy.  This immediately put Scorpius at ease.  Guy gestured at the boy.  “My companion, as I’ve told you, is Julien.  I picked him up from the port at Nice.  He doesn’t speak English.  He’s a bit, as you Brits say, _cheeky_ , but harmless.”

The fact that Julien didn’t have a surname and was ‘picked up from the port’ made Scorpius slightly apprehensive, but the boy smiled charmingly and shook his hand. “Enchanté.”

“Enchanté,” repeated Scorpius politely.

Maybe Julien was one of those boys that people hired seasonally to help crew their boats.

Guy asked, “Now that you know us, would you like to come for a sail?  I’ll have you back by dinner.”

 

The gleaming luxury vessels at the marina had fascinated Scorpius since the first time he visited Corsica as a little boy.  Of course, riding a ship on the sea was too risky in his parents’ eyes so he was never allowed on one.  But he loved to walk along the marina and admire them, from the sailing yachts with sumptuous, burnished dark wood, to the sleek, white, mega motor yachts with multiple decks.  It was amazing that muggles could make such enormous, beautiful things that could move so fast on the water without using any magic at all.  The yachts all had intriguing names emblazoned on the stern and flags that fluttered in the wind, proudly displaying their port of origin.  Many of the same ships came to the port of Ajaccio every summer, hailing from all over the Mediterranean, and all over the world, as far as South Africa.  Scorpius would watch them bobbing gently on the crystal blue water, trying to imagine what it would be like to sail across the ocean from Kent, or Corfu, or Cape Town.  He knew the names of the ships, but never the people who actually owned them.

 

“Which one’s yours?” asked Scorpius.

“Neaira,” he said with a hint of pride.  “She’s a 52-meter Alloy sailing yacht.  Designed by the Dubois company, built in New Zealand.  Marten Spars masts and sails, Caterpillar auxiliary engine.  Do you know her?”

Scorpius had no idea what all those specifications meant, but he knew Neaira was an enormous sailboat with a smooth, black hull, gold trim, brass railings, that flew the flags of France and Marseille.  It was one of the sexiest ships that came to port every summer.  There was no way he could pass up this opportunity.

He nodded.  “Yeah, I know that one.  I’d be delighted to come… but I need to ask my grandmother first.”

 

Nanna Cissy lounged in the cabana with the curtains tied back, sipping a minty green beverage from a tall glass, having her feet massaged.  When Scorpius told her he wanted to go for a sail with some new friends, she was quite pleased that he was finally socializing.  But when he pointed to two people on the beach, Nanna pulled off her designer sunglasses and huffed, “Absolutely not!”

It was rare to hear the word _no_ coming from Nanna’s crimson lips, which gave a certain finality to _absolutely not_.  Of course Scorpius whined and pouted, using his talent for looking adorable to get what he wanted, which usually worked on people like Albie and Nanna.  This time, it was to no avail.

“Have you any idea who that is?” She said, as if the man was some sort of notorious criminal.

“Yeah, his name is Guy and his friend is Julien.   Guy says he knows you.”

“Of course he knows me.  Monsieur Levesque is on the board of the country club.  He reviews our membership every other year.  But, you may not go sailing with him.”

Scorpius furrowed his brow and whined, “But why?”

Nanna Cissy opened and closed her mouth silently several times, appearing to struggle with the answer.  “I just don’t want you alone with him.  You will decline his invitation, but politely so.  Tell him you’re busy.”

Scorpius nodded slowly, silently fuming that he was denied a sailing excursion without a good explanation.  His grandmother must have felt his disappointment, for her voice softened.   “Nanna will order a massage for you. Okay Sweetness?”

 

Scorpius didn’t particularly like it when strangers touched him so much.  If it were anyone but Sophie, Nanna’s usual masseuse, he would have refused completely.  Still, it was uncomfortable to have the surly woman kneading his muscles firmly.  Sophie was a regular fixture at L’Adrienne and could always be counted on for interesting gossip and strong opinions.  She had the distinct accent of the native Corsicans – Provincial French with a hint of Italian – and a voice that sounded like she’d been smoking for thirty of her forty years.  Her English was very good, as well as her Italian and German, owing to her time employed by the Mediterranean cruise ships.

“Tell me about Guy Levesque,” he asked as Sophie worked on his calves, which felt like they could snap if she wrung them any harder.

She gave a little knowing, humorless chuckle.  “Oh ho ho, I see Monsieur Levesque finally found you.  Has he solicited you?”

Sophie made it sound like Guy had been watching him, which he found both creepy and flattering.  “He and Julien invited me on their boat,” admitted Scorpius.

“Julien.  His boy for this summer, I suppose,” said Sophie.  “I assume you declined.  But if you accepted, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”  She squirted massage oil into her palms and slapped the back of his thigh. Scorpius bit his lip to stifle a pained cry.  “Nice boy like you, I doubt you have any idea,” she said as she rubbed the oil into his under-developed muscles.

Scorpius looked back over his shoulder and smirked.  “You know I have my dirty little secrets.”  Sophie knew all about his relationship with Albie. Scorpius had known Sophie had a girlfriend and trusted her enough to keep his secrets from his parents.

“Ah, but you, _mon petit_ _flirteur précoce_ , would be playing with fire if you played with Monseiur Levesque.”  Sophie pressed her fingertips into the small of Scorpius’s back and firmly smoothed them outward from his spine.  He faintly worried that she could burst his kidneys from the outside.

Irritated with both Sophie’s reticence and her rough massage, Scorpius said sarcastically, “Please be a bit more vague, I think I can understand you too well.”

Sophie explained, “Guy Levesque is a playboy.  He could have every woman on this island, but what he wants are boys.  Precocious teenagers like you.  But never by force, so don’t you worry.  He doesn’t have to prey on them.  They come flocking to Monseiur Levesque like gulls at the fishing pier.”

It was beginning to make sense, but not completely.  “So what’s the problem with me going on his boat?  He’s got Julien.”

“Why settle for one pretty golden boy when he can have two?”

 

The whole situation should have frightened Scorpius, but it only intrigued him more.  So Guy had picked up a summer fling in Nice, and was perhaps using him to lure more boys to him.  But Sophie was right; Guy didn’t really need shiny bait.  He was very alluring on his own - fabulously rich and devastatingly handsome.  If Scorpius didn’t have Albie, he probably would have noticed this man hanging around L’Adrienne sooner and developed a little crush on him.  Maybe Julien was the greedy one, digging for gold amidst this playground of affluent men.

 

Nanna Cissy, perhaps making up for the one time in Scorpius’s life that she had to say _no_ , allowed him to go into town on his own.  She gave him several sheets of colorful paper – Euros, she called them – muggle money.  He was to spend the rest of the afternoon shopping for little gifts for his parents, his sisters, and of course Albie.  Later, she would meet him at one of the many restaurants near the marina that lined the pier for an _al fresco_ dinner.

Scorpius couldn’t apparate yet and there was no floo network on this island of very few wizards.  But he wasn’t opposed to walking down the Route des Sanguinaries that ran along the curvy coastline and offered extraordinary views of the sea.  It was about a twenty-minute walk, but a pleasant one that had always gone by quickly when he’d made the trek in the past.  About ten minutes away from town, a silver automobile stopped on the side of the road in front of him.  It was a flashy vehicle, one of those that had a removable top and shiny things on the wheels.  The conductor of the car turned around.  It was Guy.  Sitting in the seat next to him was Julien.

“Need a ride into town?” shouted Guy over the purr of the engine and the hiss of the waves that broke on the rocky shore beside the road.

Scorpius hesitated for a moment.  His grandmother had said Scorpius was not to be alone with Guy, but Julien was there.  She had forbidden him to sail on Guy’s boat, but never said anything about riding in his car.  Scorpius shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?” before hopping into the back seat of the little vehicle.  He’d been in other cars before – the big black one with tinted windows that drove his family to and from Kings Cross station every school year.  But nothing like this one.  It was terribly fast and took the curves of the road so tightly that it felt like they’d tip over.  It was quite an exhilarating two-minute ride.

Guy dropped him off at the beginning of the pedestrian strip where all the best shops were.  “If you want to look at Neaira, Julien and I will be at the marina.”  Scorpius simply smiled and nodded, not committing to anything.  “Happy shopping.  Buy something nice for your grand-mère.”  And with that, he sped off.

Scorpius enjoyed combing through the little stores, densely packed on the cobbled street.  Most sold souvenirs to tourists, like beach towels with the flag of Corsica printed on them, little things that muggles use to hold keys, post cards with scenic photographs, and for some odd reason, pocket knives.  Having been dragged here so often by his mother in the past, Scorpius knew to bypass these trinket stores and go straight to the high-end boutiques that sold lovely handmade gifts.  Even though he was not particularly fond of his little sisters, he bought them jars of their favorite Corsican fig jam.  For his mother and father, he purchased bars of rosemary soap he’d seen them buy for themselves previous years.  And for his beloved Albie, he bought a red coral charm on a leather bracelet.  Nanna Cissy was the sort of difficult-to-shop-for witch who had everything, but he knew what would make her smile.  As the sun set, painting the sky shades of pink, gold, and orange, Scorpius strolled down to the farmers market to buy a bouquet of flowers for his grandmother.  He chose an arrangement of assorted blooms that matched the colors of the sky.

Across the street from the market was the marina.  Scorpius still had another two hours before dinner.  Nanna never said he couldn’t look at Guy’s boat.  He ambled casually along the docks, stopping to admire each luxurious vessel.  And there she was – Neaira.  The yacht was just as lavish as he’d remembered, sleek and black, adorned with gold and brass, like a curvy woman in a silk gown.  Sitting on the polished oak deck was Julien, catching the last rays of sun.

“Bon soir, Julien!” Scorpius shouted from the dock. 

Julien rose from his recliner and said cheerily, “Ah, Malfoy!”  He moved towards the side of the boat where a little bridge connected it to the dock and excitedly gestured for Scorpius to board the vessel.  “Viens ici!  Comment ça va?  Quoi de neuf?”

Scorpius stepped onto the deck and used what little French he knew to greet Julien and inquire about the whereabouts of his companion, hoping Guy would come before he had to use, or abuse, more French.  “Ça va bien! Où est Guy?”

Julien rattled on with a friendly grin and a dismissive hand wave, “Il est allé au marché pour acheter du vin. Il sera de retour bientôt.”  Scorpius had no idea what he had said and guessed that Guy was not present, but that it didn’t matter.  Julien must have deciphered from Scorpius’s nervous smile and silence that he was speaking more French than he could easily understand.  With a very thick accent, Julien said, “Guy went to market to purchase wine.  He will return soon.”

Scorpius blinked with his mouth still slightly agape.

“I don’t like Guy to know I speak English.  Better for me, he thinks I don’t know much.”  Julien quirked a little sly grin, then asked teasingly, gesturing at the flowers and bright paper shopping bags, “Pour moi?”

Scorpius blushed and shook his head.  “Pour ma grand-mére.”

Julien giggled and said, “I know,” then gently took Scorpius by the wrist, leading him to the other end of the boat.  “Come.  The sun will be gone soon.  Let us watch it go down.”  They leaned over the brass railings at the front of the ship and watched the sun as it dipped behind the horizon, leaving streaks of fire across the sky in its wake.  “C’est beau,” he said with a sigh. 

Scorpius nodded in agreement, “Yes, very beautiful,” inwardly referring to both the sunset and the boy standing next to him. 

After some silence, which Scorpius was too intimidated to fill, Julien asked, “What is your age?”

Sheepishly, Scorpius answered, “Fifteen.”

Julien turned to Scorpius and eyed him slowly, which did nothing for Scorpius’s nerves.  “You look seventeen or eighteen.  Vous êtes grand, non?  Tall.” 

Scorpius shrugged.  He was indeed tall for fifteen, but he thought his young, slightly feminine features spoke of his age more than his height.  “And you?” he asked.

“Twenty-one,” Julien answered and added, anticipating Scorpius’s next comment,  “I look young, I know.”

Scorpius asked hesitantly, “And Guy?  Do you know how old he is?”  He hoped he wasn’t prying too much.

“Thirty-five years young.  But he has the cock of a man of twenty years, and fucks like a teenager.”  Julien flashed a devious little smirk.

Scorpius blushed deeply, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth.  Shyly, he replied, “That, er, must be nice.”  What else could one say in response to such a claim?

What Julien said next would have set Scorpius’s face ablaze, were it possible.  “If you were not too young, I would say to join us in bed.”  Then Julien grinned shrewdly.  “But for thirty euro, you may watch.” 

Just to test if the boy was joking, Scorpius countered, “Fifteen euros.”

“Twenty-five euro, but you have to touch yourself.  Guy likes it.”  Julien was indeed dead serious. 

He leaned closer and let his lips ghost over Scorpius’s neck as he whispered hotly, sending delightful shivers down his spine, “Vous êtes si jolie. I would fuck you for free if you were legal.” 

Julien traced Scorpius’s jaw with his finger, causing him to involuntarily release a shuddering exhalation.  Nobody had ever made Scorpius feel so desired in such a raw, carnal way – not even Albie.  But, as Scorpius now understood, it was Julien’s job as a rent boy to make people feel this way.  Still, this fact did nothing to lessen Julien’s effect on Scorpius.

He knew it was wrong, but he could feel his cock twitching in his shorts.  “Twenty euros,” Scorpius offered, and felt an immense sense of dread wash over him as soon as the words left his mouth.  He quickly added firmly, “But I’m not taking my cock out,” as if this exonerated him from any wrong-doing.

Julien nodded, letting the tip of his nose graze Scorpius’s neck, and repeated softly,  “Twenty euro.”  Then he kissed the side of Scorpius’s neck so lightly it would not have registered upon his nerves, were it not coming from such an attractive, seductive young man.

 

If you didn’t count pornographic photographs or the boys in the shower room at school, Scorpius had only ever seen one other person’s cock.  And now that he was staring at two grown men’s cocks, he could hardly count Albus’s.  Not that Albus’s was very small, but there was clearly a discernable difference between a pubescent dick and the seven-inch column of erect flesh that was slowly disappearing into Julien’s mouth. 

Scorpius sat on the black leather sectional sofa inside Neaira, just a cushion away from Guy, who sat completely naked.  Even without the coating of tanning oil, and under the soft lighting, the man’s athletic body seemed to glow, radiating a warm sensuality. Julien was equally naked and resplendent, kneeling between Guy’s legs on the plush Persian rug.  Guy’s fingers held back the curtain of Julien’s golden brown curls to watch just as raptly as Scorpius.

Up until this point, Scorpius had been sitting stiffly on his hands.  But it had become impossible to ignore his own screaming erection.  Scorpius unbuttoned his khaki shorts and slipped his hand inside to palm his comparatively meager dick.  He marveled at the way Julien could make such an unruffled, debonair man come undone with the simple swirl of his tongue upon the tip of his cock or with the deft stroke of his fingers on his hardened shaft.  Scorpius was incredibly aroused just by the delightful moans and delicious French accolades pouring from Guy’s lips as Julien expertly mouthed the swollen head.  Though Julien was technically in the service of this older man, he was in complete control. 

Scorpius wanted that sort of power and wished he could make his boyfriend unravel in ecstasy this way.  He and Albus were decently versed in hand jobs and dry humping, as many boys their age were.  But what he was watching was leagues above what he and Albus had experimented with, and Scorpius desperately wanted to experience this level of intimacy.  It was so much more than clumsy heavy petting.  This was more sensual.  This wasn’t messing around; this was _sex._

“Viens ici,” Guy purred as he gazed down at Julien.  _Come here._ His smooth voice was so alluring, Scorpius could have followed.  But he remained glued to the sofa, stuck to the leather by a combination of his sweat and his general inability to move, other than to stroke himself.  If he kept as still as possible, it was like Scorpius wasn’t really there, watching something he probably shouldn’t be watching, intruding on a very private scene.  Though Scorpius wondered if Guy and Julien actually enjoyed putting on a show for their young guest.

Julien rose from the floor.  When he moved, fluidly and slowly, he was like liquid gold.  His nubile body truly was perfection, and he could tell that Guy shared his admiration of the boy judging from the way he looked at Julien – with a feral sort of hunger, with the kind of desire that could ignite bodies.  Scorpius decided that, if Albus ever looked at him that way, he would forego waiting until that vague _right time_ and let his boyfriend fuck him senseless.  He was almost jealous of Julien.

Julien straddled Guy’s lap and gently rolled his hips so that the older man’s hardened need brushed against his.  Guy took both of their erections in his broad hand and simultaneously stroked them.  He soon abandoned his own cock in favor of working Julien’s feverishly.  Now it was the boy’s turn to come undone.  It was like watching a flower bud opening in slow motion through omni-occulars, the way his back arched elegantly as he gracefully grinded upon Guy’s lap.  Soon, Julien was panting and moaning and declaring something in French that Scorpius guessed was an announcement of how close he was to orgasm.

“Le mettre dans ma bouche,” Guy commanded softly.  Scorpius knew that _bouche_ meant _mouth_ , having heard the term _ferme ta bouche_ , or _shut your mouth_ before.  He had a feeling this had something to do with the opposite.

Julien raised off Guy’s lap, stood on the sofa with knees bent, and guided his cock into Guy’s mouth.  There was something very striking about a virile grown man sucking off a boy.  Again, Julien had exercised his power over Guy.  He took the man by the back of his dusky blond hair and thrust his cock into his mouth.  Julien wasn’t exactly gentle, but Guy took it rather well, easily slurping up every inch until Julien gave a strangled cry.  Guy quickly lifted his head as Julien pulled out and spewed his load into Guy’s open mouth.  Scorpius thought it was positively obscene, but fascinating nevertheless.  He watched, enraptured, as Julien swiped his dripping cockhead along Guy’s bottom lip, smearing it with his sticky seed.  Then Guy licked every drop of Julien’s come off his own lips and off Julien’s cock… and Scorpius’s eyelids fluttered closed.  He’d never seen anything so vulgar, so carnal, so _fucking hot_ in his life and it was making him come hard in his trousers.  For the few seconds it took Scorpius’s orgasm to wash over him, he seemed to sink into the sofa as everything around him disappeared.  In his mind, he saw himself coming in Albie’s mouth.  He watched his beloved slurping his hot spunk with enthusiasm.

Guy’s voice snapped Scorpius out of his reverie.  “That’s what Julien means by _spit or swallow._  I’m not ashamed to swallow another man’s semen.  By drinking his essence, I take some of his power and make it my own.”

Scorpius rolled his head to gaze lazily at Guy and Julien.  Julien had collapsed onto Guy’s lap and was now languidly nuzzling the side of his lover’s neck while Guy affectionately stroked his back.  “What about Julien?  Does he spit or does he swallow?” asked Scorpius.

“Julien always spits.  But that’s because he’s a dirty whore.”  Guy chuckled as he repeated teasingly for Julien’s benefit in French.  “Vous avalez parce que vous êtes un sale pute.”  Julien responded in kind by nipping Guy on the neck.

A bit tiredly, still in a post-orgasmic haze, Scorpius said, “Then my answer to his question is, neither.  I’ve yet to suck my boyfriend’s cock.”

“Ah, then you must take what you’ve learned and please that lucky young man of yours,” said Guy with a soft smile.

Scorpius returned his smile and replied, “Definitely.  Merci beaucoup to both of you for that very effective lesson.”

Julien, turned his face while still nestled against Guy and gave Scorpius a clandestine wink and an astute grin.  Then he purred against his lover’s lips, “Baise-moi.  Baise-moi maintenant.”

Guy reached for a condom and ripped it open with his teeth.  Scorpius wasn’t sure he was prepared to watch this.  He glanced at the clock on the wall and used the time as an excuse to leave.  He needed the next half hour to collect himself before meeting his grandmother for dinner anyway.

In the washroom, he used a bit of magic to clean up the mess in his shorts then quietly slipped above deck, leaving the beautiful, wanton sounds of Guy and Julien fucking bellow.  As he walked along the marina beneath the glittering starry sky, he smirked to himself, thoroughly excited to give Albie his special souvenir from L'île de Corse.  It would be far better than the coral bracelet he’d bought him.


	2. Octopus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius is tutored in the art of seduction by an unconventional couple while summering on a French island in the Mediterranean. Albus will be pleased, but first sexual experiences rarely happen in the ideal way one imagines them. In this chapter, Scorpius gives Albus a little something he picked up from Ajaccio. It's not an octopus.

“It’s, erm… pretty.”  Albus tried to smile appreciatively while biting the corner of his lip to keep from laughing.

 

Scorpius furrowed his brow suspiciously.  “What’s the matter, don’t you like it?”

 

Albus fingered the tiny piece of red coral that had been carved into the shape of an octopus, hanging from his new leather bracelet.  “I do like it.  It’s really… cute.”

 

“Bollocks,” Scorpius pouted.  “You’re a terrible liar for a Slytherin sometimes.  If you don’t like it, I won’t be sore.  Just tell me.”

 

Albus looked up at his boyfriend, fighting a fit of giggles, and asked, “When you chose this for me, did you realize that it sort of looks like a penis?”

 

Scorpius snorted, “It does not,” and grabbed Albus’s hand to inspect the charm.  “When you look at it up close, it is clearly an octopus with all his tentacles together.”  He backed up, held Albus’s wrist away from him and squinted.  “And if you look at it from far away…,” Scorpius suddenly burst out laughing,  “You’re right. It totally looks like a penis.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite flattered that you gave me a little penis,” Albus joked.  “I mean, who isn’t fond of a little penis now and then?”

 

“Certainly I am.”  Scorpius put his arms around Albus and cuddled him, reassuring Albus that he wasn’t offended.  “What did you bring me from Cornwall this time?  I hope it’s a _lot_ of penis,” Scorpius jibed.

 

Albus nuzzled his face into Scorpius’s chest and said, yawning tiredly at the end of a long day travelling on the Hogwarts Express, “Fudge, as usual.  The sort with the walnuts that you fancy so much.  Though I _could_ give you a little penis if that’s what you’d prefer.”  He sighed softly as he felt Scorpius’s fingers gently raking through his hair.

 

“I always appreciate the fudge, but I do believe I had hoped for, _a lot_ of penis.  Not a little penis.  It would be perfectly complementary to my other gift for you, actually.”  Scorpius added a quiet knowing chuckle to the end of his statement.

 

Intrigued, Albus inquired, “You’re giving me two presents this year?  Oh, you spoil me.   Or are you bartering with me?  A lot of penis in exchange for another gift?  How Slytherin of you, Scor.”

 

Just then, Albus’s and Scorpius’s roommate, Bryce Zabini, growled from the next bed, “Would you two shut it or cast a bloody silencing charm around yourselves?  If I have to hear the word _penis_ one more time, I’m going to sick up!”

 

This, of course incited Albus and Scorpius to taunt Bryce.  The two boys launched into an annoying repetitive chant of “Penis, penis, penis, penis, penis, penis…”

 

“Shut the fuck up!  Some of us are trying to sleep here!” came another voice, quickly followed by Garret Goyle’s pillow hurtling through the drawn curtains of Albus’s bed.

 

“Yeah, and some of us are trying to shag our girlfriend here,” he heard Lloyd Warrington say, followed by a scandalized gasp from Morgana Vasey, insisting her beau was not, though Albus knew it wasn’t far off.

 

“Don’t let him do it without protection, Mor,” teased Albus.  Scorpius smacked his arm, which did nothing to deter him.  “Never believe a boy when he says he’s going to pull out.” 

 

“Bloody Hell, did Scor knock you up again, Albie?” joked Morgana, which set off riotous laughter.

 

As if on cue, Tiberius Davis, seventh-year prefect, burst into the room.  “From the noise coming through this door, you’d think this was the first years’ room!  Shut the fuck up, or I’ll be forced to take points from our house.  You’re supposed to be setting an example!  Lights out, the lot of you!”

 

Patronizingly, everyone in the room chimed in unison, “Yes sir, sorry sir,” including Morgana, who comically didn’t try hard to disguise her voice.

 

As soon as Tiberius closed the door, Scorpius hissed loudly, “Penis.”

 

Bryce muttered, “I swear to Merlin, Malfoy…”

 

“Boys, boys, settle down and go to sleep,” whispered Morgana, to which everyone replied, “Goodnight, mummy.”

 

“Silencing charms, gentlemen, if you’re going to stay up snogging,” reminded Lloyd, “I’m talking about you, Zabini, Goyle.”  More muffled snorts of laughter followed, plus an annoyed growl from Bryce.

 

Albus settled into his bed as Scorpius snuggled up to him.  He let the curtains close with the swish of his wand and set up a silencing charm around them just in case, but he doubted that they’d get up to anything tonight.  “Are you really giving me another gift?  You seriously didn’t have to.”

 

“I’ll give it to you tomorrow night.  If you’re good,” Scorpius mumbled sleepily against the side of Albus’s neck.

 

“Can I have a hint about what it is?”  Scorpius and Albus usually exchanged one gift at the beginning of the school term, often something obtained from a summer trip.  Albus couldn’t help but get excited by the idea of an unprecedented second gift.  It truly must be special, he thought.

 

“Tomorrow, Albie,” muttered Scorpius.

 

They kissed each other goodnight, exchanged I-love-you’s, and were soon both fast asleep.

 

 

Albus nagged Scorpius about his second gift from the moment they woke up, partially because he was curious and partially because he loved to annoy his boyfriend.  Scorpius wasn’t easily fazed, so pestering him was akin to flirtation in their relationship.  Finally, a clue came at lunchtime.  Scorpius handed him a little note, which he read aloud, though judging from the blush that spread over his boyfriend’s cheeks, perhaps he shouldn’t have shared the note with everybody within earshot.

 

_Do you spit or do you swallow?_

 

Albus furrowed his brow in confusion as Lloyd, Morgana, and Garret all snickered while Bryce scrunched up his nose in disgust.

 

Lloyd tossed a diced carrot at Scorpius and joked, “Real romantic, Scor.”  Scorpius just rolled his eyes.  Lloyd continued to taunt, speaking in an overwrought voice, gesturing dramatically, “Oh how do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.  Shall I compare thee to a rose?  Dost thy swallow-eth, or dost thy spit-eth?”

 

Everyone seemed to find this very funny, but Albus continued to glance at his companions with confusion and sheepishly admitted, “I don’t get it.”

 

Lloyd raised an eyebrow and gave him an incredulous, pointed look.  “Really, Albie?  You not only have an older brother, but a _gay_ older brother, and you have no idea what Scor is talking about?”

 

Something started to click in Albus’s head, but he continued to stare expectantly.  “Erm…”

 

Scorpius giggled.  “And you thought _I_ was naïve for my age.”  He took one last giant bite of his lunch before rising from his seat.  Mouth still full, he pulled Albus by the arm.  “Have you learned nothing all summer? I’m disappointed.”

 

Albus followed Scorpius to the nearest boy’s washroom, scowling petulantly the whole way.  He felt ignorant and inadequate.  As they washed their hands in the sinks, Albus muttered defensively, “I’m not a little kid. I know what you meant… sort of.”  But he really didn’t.  He vaguely understood that it was something sexual.

 

Scorpius could probably hear the hurt concealed in Albus’s words, for he said in a soft, apologetic voice, “It’s okay if you don’t. I was joking about being disappointed.”

 

Albus asked sheepishly, “You sure?” He looked at Scorpius in the moldy old mirrors.  His boyfriend’s reflection still managed to shine in the faint sunlight coming through the soot-stained windows, with his luminous skin and brilliant white-blond hair.

 

Scorpius dried his hands and stood behind Albus, wrapping his long arms around his waist.  Albus noticed that Scorpius had grown during the summer and was now at least two inches taller than him.  Scorpius rested his chin on Albus’s shoulder and their eyes met in the mirror – emerald green and silver blue fixed with mutual adoration.  “I could never be disappointed with you,” said Scorpius, “You’re perfect.”

 

It was something Albus had been told many times before, but he always managed to melt every time Scorpius proclaimed his perfection.  Of course, he didn’t feel his boyfriend’s proclamations were merited.  But it was nevertheless wonderful to hear the words falling from Scorpius’s pretty lips.

 

“I’m not,” Albus said humbly with a slight blush as he reached back to play with Scorpius’s hair.  “I seem to be unaware of something all gay boys are supposed to know,” he added with a small, soft chuckle, “apparently.”

 

“No, I’m sure you’re aware. Maybe you just haven’t heard it being discussed with such terms before,” assured Scorpius.

 

Albus quirked his eyebrow into a slightly dubious expression.  “And _you_ have?”  He liked to believe that, since they shared their first innocent kiss at eleven-years-old, and had only ever been with each other, they were on equal footing regarding sexual experience and knowledge.  Until now, Albus had even thought he was slightly more sexually aware than Scorpius, having begun puberty first and having the insight of an older brother.

 

Scorpius admitted with a bashful tinge on his cheeks and the hint of a sly grin, “I, uhm… watched a bit of, erm… porn.  French porn, while I was in Corsica.”  The mischievous little giggle tacked on to the end of this statement gave Albus a slight twitch in his trousers.  He loved that laugh, that hint of impishness that peeked through Scorpius’s angelic veneer, which usually brought the promise of trouble in the best way possible.

 

Albus’s eyebrow rose higher as did the corner of his mouth, mirroring Scorpius’s faintly devious smile.  “I see.  You learned something this summer, then?”

 

Scorpius turned his face and purred into the side of Albus’s neck, letting his lips brush gently against his skin.  “I have.”

 

There was definitely something different about Scorpius.  His kisses and his touch seemed to be more deliberate, carrying more intent.  He seemed to have more of a command over Albus’s body.

 

Albus’s eyes fluttered closed from the sensation of Scorpius’s warm breath and soft mouth upon his neck.  “Teach me,” he whispered, tilting his head to afford the other better access to his skin.

 

“I’d _show_ you what it means to spit or to swallow, but we have Arithmancy in ten minutes,” replied Scorpius, lips still applying feather-light kisses to Albus’s neck, despite the hesitance in his words. 

 

_You cruel bastard_ , Albus thought, however fondly.  “Isn’t ten minutes enough?” Merlin knows Scorpius had wanked him off in less time than that.

 

“Yeah, but it will take that long to walk to Vector’s classroom,” Scorpius pointed out.  Albus did nothing to stop Scorpius’s hands as they crept beneath his cloak and wandered to his lap, though he knew he’d have to hide his aroused state all the way to the other end of the school until it subsided.  “I promise I’ll show you after lessons today.”

 

Albus whined, a needy little sound, as he pressed his growing, clothed arousal against the warmth of Scorpius’s palm.  “Just _tell_ me what it means.  I won’t be able to concentrate on my lessons wondering about it all day.”

 

“Okay.”  Scorpius pulled away and stepped to the sinks to splash cold water on his face.  Apparently, he was getting hot as well.  Albus followed suit then looked expectantly at Scorpius in the mirror.  He could tell, from the color that remained on his cheeks, that his boyfriend was a bit bashful about discussing this topic.  “Well,” Scorpius stalled, running his wet hands through his long fringe to slick it back, rendering it a pretty pale gold.  He continued clinically, as if teaching Albus the finer details of potion making, “When you’re sucking somebody off, and they come in your mouth-”

 

Albus interrupted, “You’re supposed to do that? I always thought... uhm… never mind. Continue.”  It had never occurred to him that spilling one’s seed in another person’s mouth was an acceptable practice.  He was pleasantly shocked and quite happy to let go of his prior misconception that one should _aim for the chest_ after getting their dick sucked – at least that’s what Lloyd boasted about doing.

 

“You don’t _have_ to let them come in your mouth; they can just come on your face, or wherever…”  Scorpius paused and glanced away, becoming timorous as the conversation became more graphic, even though he spoke about it generally in terms of the ambiguous _they_ , conveniently editing himself out of the equation, leaving Albus to wonder if Scorpius would ever really commit such sinful acts.

 

Intrigued, Albus creased his lips into a faintly wicked grin and nudged Scorpius. “Go on. Tell me what happens if somebody comes in your mouth.”

 

“Erm… you can either spit it out, or you can er... swallow it.”  Scorpius blushed and bit the corner of his bottom lip coyly, regarding Albus in the mirror.

 

Albus took a contemplative moment to quietly process this wonderful revelation before he smirked.  “So that’s it, then?  You’re going to give me a blowjob after classes today?  That’s my second gift?”

 

Scorpius shrugged, and Albus knew he was feigning nonchalance.  “If you want me to.  If not, no worries.”

 

Albus turned and slipped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, murmuring, “You’re a right evil prick for telling me, you know that?”

 

Scorpius shrugged again, grinning wryly.  “I try.”

 

“So, now I have to go through the rest of the day knowing that you’re going to suck my cock later?”  Albus asked rhetorically, then snorted with playful sarcasm, “Thanks, Scor, I appreciate that.  You’d better take good notes for me in lessons, because I’m not going to be able concentrate.”

 

 

In Arithmancy, Lloyd and Morgana took their usual seats on the bench beside Albus and Scorpius.  Lloyd greeted them silently by performing a very vulgar pantomime with his fist and a tongue poking the inside of his cheek. Albus replied with a rude two-fingered gesture of his own and knew this afternoon was going to be Hell.  It became progressively more difficult to pay attention in the day’s remaining lessons, not only because it was always hard to get back into the swing of things after a long summer, but for other obvious reasons.  Though Lloyd was usually a benign nuisance, Albus didn’t think he could handle his taunting today.

 

As they copied an impossibly long equation off the chalkboard, Lloyd leaned over and whispered, “So what did you tell Scor? Are you a spunk-gargler or a come-swallower?”

 

Albus hissed, “Neither.”  It wasn’t a lie.  Oral sex was still unexplored territory for him and Scorpius.

 

 

Albus and Scorpius had always been slow to progress in their sexual exploration of one another, quite content to discover new ways to pleasure each other at an unpressured, comfortable pace.  Albus was usually too meek to initiate, always afraid of offending his angelic snowflake with his deviant desires.  It was usually Scorpius that determined how they would progress.  Scorpius had initiated their first hand job, the first one to suggest that masturbating together could be fun, and the first to demonstrate the delightful sensuality of licking and kissing each other on sensitive body parts (other than the most sensitive bits).  Albus, like most boys their age, had thought about oral sex.  He’d kissed Scorpius’s abdomen and let his lips tease near his cock, and even allowed his cheek to brush against his hardened member.  But only in his most licentious fantasies, which he was too ashamed to reveal to Scorpius, did Albus explore his boyfriend’s cock with his lips, his tongue, and take it down his throat.

 

 

Lloyd gave Albus a knowing look, still half-joking.  “Oh, I get it.  You’re the top in the relationship.  See, I know the lingo.  I’m a friend of the rainbow.”

 

Frustrated, Albus switched seats with Scorpius so he didn’t have to deal with Lloyd.

 

In truth, Albus and Scorpius had never established definite roles.  Though Scorpius had offered to perform oral sex on Albus, he wondered if it really should be the other way around.

 

From what little he knew about oral sex, blowjobs seemed to be the opposite of intimacy.  Oral sex was about submission and cruelty, about making somebody suffer for one’s selfish pleasure.  It wasn’t about sharing or love or mutual sexual exploration.  Making somebody suck your cock was to degrade them, to take advantage of them, to humiliate them.  The way other boys talked about oral sex, it seemed like a chore – getting one’s girlfriend to do it sounded just as degrading and challenging as convincing her to clean your room without magic. 

 

In the teenage boy’s vernacular, sucking or blowing was synonymous with negativity.  Extra Potions homework sucked.  Getting detention in Headmistress Mcgonagall’s office blew.  Telling an adversary to suck your cock was possibly more rude than a _fuck you,_ and calling somebody a cocksucker was a rude insult.  Though receiving oral sex was probably sort of a good thing, giving somebody a blowjob couldn’t possibly be good. Judging from colloquial references, it could be implied that people who willingly sucked cock were submissive at best and spineless at worst.

 

Albus didn’t want to subject his beloved Snowflake to such degradation.  But what did it mean if Albus wasn’t opposed to being degraded himself?  A part of him, a part that Albus was ashamed of, wanted Scorpius in his mouth.  He’d gladly humble himself before his perfect angel and worship his cock.  He couldn’t even imagine Scorpius lowering himself to suck him off – he literally could not picture it in his mind.  Maybe Albus had more of an inclination towards being a bottom.

 

 

Albus distractedly stared through (not at) Professor Scamander’s photo slide show as she went on dreamily about her adventures observing the nearly extinct reticulated hornbeam bowtruckle in their native South African habitat.  He’d already seen these slides at a dinner party over the summer where he addressed Professor Scamander as Auntie Luna. The only notes he managed to take were those two facts – _reticulated hornbeam bowtruckle: Nearly Extinct. Native habitat, South Africa._   He glanced over at Scorpius’s parchment and was relieved to find it already covered with neatly written notes.  He could copy them later.  Albus could only concentrate on one thing and he felt disgusted with himself for it.

 

It had become an unseasonably warm and muggy day for September, which made conditions in the castle stiflingly humid.  Auntie Luna, or rather, Professor Scamander had all the windows open in hopes of letting in a breeze that didn’t exist.  The only thing that entered the room was more heat from the afternoon sun beaming in.  Albus tilted his head and rested it lazily on Scorpius’s shoulder, nearly ready to nod off.  And that’s when he caught a whiff of his boyfriend’s scent.  Like most of the students, Scorpius had taken off his cloak and jumper, but was still sweating, as was Albus.  He could smell Scorpius’s perspiration wafting from his neck, and it conjured the most explicit fantasy in his mind.

 

He thought about Scorpius, naked and glistening beautifully with perspiration, like a white, glittering snowflake that had begun to melt.  He thought about how delightful it would be writhe against his body, skin hot and slick.  He imagined licking the beads of sweat off Scorpius’s neck… his chest… his sac.  He could almost taste the sensual briny flavor of Scorpius’s flesh as the smell of sex filled him.  He imagined dragging his tongue along Scorpius’s hardened length, lapping up every errant bead of pre-come that escaped the slit of his cock.  Albus knew then, that if Scorpius was going to give him a blow job tonight, he would gladly reciprocate and would eagerly swallow every ounce of his hot spunk. 

 

Albus gave a low, quiet sigh that ended in a barely audible growl.  To anyone else, this would be an expression of boredom.  But Scorpius must have guessed the sentiment behind it, for he rubbed Albus’s thigh under the table and whispered, “Are you alright, Albie? Hanging in there?”

 

With his head still resting on Scorpius’s shoulder, he tilted his chin up and whispered into Scorpius ear.  It was a needy, whimpering sort of whisper that imparted his desperate desire at this most inconvenient time.  “Snowflake...”

 

Scorpius gave his thigh a reassuring pat and whispered back, “I know, Lovely.  Soon.” 

 

 

Soon had come earlier than expected.  A thunderstorm rolled in from the hills in the late afternoon, overtaking the sun like a thick, grey blanket, but did nothing for relief.  The extra humidity turned the divination tower, which had been baking in the sun all day, into an outright steam room.  It was difficult to breathe in the classroom, even without the usual scented candles and incense.  After Flora Pucey had an asthma attack and Garret Goyle fainted within the first ten minutes of Divination, Professor Patil cancelled lecture and sent the Slytherins to the library with a reading assignment while she sorted out a more comfortable classroom for her advanced course next hour.

 

Albus and Scorpius had time to kill before Potions, the final lesson of the day.  Rather than go to the library, they snuck off to the dorms.  Once inside their room, which was thankfully empty, Albus tossed his rucksack and cloak onto his trunk, slipped off his shoes, and flopped into his bed.

 

“Merlin, it’s so bloody hot today,” Albus groaned wearily before tugging his necktie loose and whining,  “This day just needs to end so I can have a shower.”  Or rather, have Scorpius’s cock in his mouth.

 

With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, Scorpius sat on the side of the bed, wordlessly unknotted Albus’s loosened necktie, and slipped it off.  He then slung it over the knob on the other side of the door.  There were no locks in the dorms, and a tie hanging on the doorknob was a signal amongst the boys that something was going on inside that required privacy.  Generally, privacy was respected.  Occasionally, the three other boys that shared their room interrupted Albus and Scorpius’s snogging sessions just to be pricks.  Of course, Albus and Scorpius often returned the “favor”.

 

As Scorpius sauntered back over to Albus’s bed, quickly unbuttoning his white Oxford, Albus watched anxiously and inwardly prayed that they would not be interrupted this time.  Scorpius sat on the edge, crossed his ankle on his knee, and untied his designer Italian leather shoes.  Impatient, Albus crawled up behind him, slipped Scorpius’s open shirt off his shoulders, letting the fabric hang loosely behind him, and lavished wet kisses upon the back of his neck.  The taste of Scorpius’s sweat tingled upon his tongue.  “Snowflake,” he began sheepishly as his fingers caressed Scorpius’s slender arms, “I want you.”

 

Scorpius pulled off his shoe and reached down to set it carefully on the floor.  As he bent, Albus smoothed a hand along the elegant arch of Scorpius’s back, marveling at the perfection of his pale, unblemished skin.  Scorpius replied, completely absent of any smugness, “I know, Lovely. It’s okay,” as if to reassure Albus that his desires were valid and not shameful.  As he untied his other shoe, he said, in the same gentle tone of voice, “Close the curtains and get undressed for me.  I’ll take care of you.”

 

As Albus did what he was told, he started to inwardly panic.  Could he really let Scorpius do this to him?  Could he allow his beloved to stoop so low?  Was it selfish of him to want Scorpius to suck him off?  And if he did allow this to happen, would it mean he didn’t respect Scorpius the way he deserved to be respected? 

 

He laid down on his back, wearing only his white Skivvies, but still perspired within the confines of his curtained-in four-poster bed.  The dungeons were cooler than the rest of the castle, but the humidity made it uncomfortable.  He raised his arms loosely, rested them on the pillow, and watched Scorpius wrench off his clothes in a hurry, inwardly amused that Scorpius was so careful with his expensive shoes, but could care less about his school uniform.  Albus found little nuances like this so endearing and reassuring – Scorpius, as perfectly put-together as he was, was essentially only human.  Not an infallible angel devoid of mortal desires.  His nervousness began to fade.

 

Scorpius, dressed only in a pair of sky blue boxer briefs, straddled Albus’s lap and sat.  He took a whiff of his own underarm and said, “Gods, I smell. Sorry. The weather, you know,” Scorpius grinned bashfully, “Makes me sweat like a pickle.”  Albus’s lovely angel was so human sometimes that it made him laugh with absolute love.

 

“I happen to like sweaty pickles,” Albus giggled. 

 

“Yeah?”  Scorpius undulated his hips in a slow circle as he cupped his clothed crotch and gave a small, closed-lipped chuckle.  “Do you like _this_ sweaty pickle?”

 

Albus bit his bottom lip as the sensation of Scorpius’s arse rubbing against his lap caused a rush of warmth to fill his growing erection.  “It’s all I could think about today.”  He reached up to smooth his hands along Scorpius’s narrow torso.  His skin was dewy with perspiration.  “You’re so lovely this way – all hot and sweaty.”

 

Scorpius lowered himself onto Albus and propped himself up on his forearms.  “I like it when you’re sweaty too.  Especially after you’ve had quidditch practice.”  He nuzzled his face under Albus’s arm, inhaled deeply, exhaled as a shuddering sigh, and moaned softly, “I love the smell of your sweat.”  He brought his lips to meet Albus’s and muttered against them, “It smells like…”

 

Albus finished his sentence for him with his own interpretation of the masculine scent, “Like sex.”

 

Scorpius smirked, kissed Albus softly, and agreed. “Like sex.”

 

Albus caressed Scorpius’s back with both hands, delighting in the moist softness of his skin, and gently bucked his hips against Scorpius’s.  “I’ve been fantasizing about licking the sweat from your body,” Albus whispered sensually, unable to keep his dreams hidden now that they were on the verge of becoming a reality.

 

Scorpius flashed a teasing grin.  “And I’ve been fantasizing about licking your cock. Merlin. Do you realize I’ve had a hard-on all day just thinking about you?”  With that, he grinded down on Albus’s lap again, causing him to shudder with pleasure.

 

“You have?”  Albus asked, genuinely surprised.

 

Scorpius nodded.  “I want to taste you,” he began, teasing his tongue along Albus’s bottom lip, “I want to swallow you.”  Albus loved that low, sexy voice; the one Scorpius reserved just for him.

 

“I want you too,” Albus said, employing his own sensual drawl that poured from his lips involuntarily, as if his desires had possessed him like a demon and used him as a vessel to deliver a message of lust.  “I want you in my mouth.”

 

“Only if you put your cock in my mouth first,” replied Scorpius, purring lasciviously against Albus’s parted lips.

 

Albus could have come in his underpants, such was his excitement to be blessed with this opportunity of reciprocal exploration. He hoped he would last longer than he had for their first hand job, but judging from the way that pre-come was already leaking voluminously from the slit of his cock and darkening his Skivvies, there was very little chance of that happening.

 

Albus nodded his consent.  Really, what fool would refuse those pink, voluptuous lips wrapped around his cock?  Even a straight boy might put aside his preferences, just to fuck that beautiful mouth.  But Albus wouldn’t be ramming his dick into Scorpius’s face – though a very dark part of him thought about it.  He would respectfully, and lovingly, accept Scorpius’s gift of pleasure.  He would not subjugate him, he would uphold Scorpius’s dignity and revere him while his fallen seraphim worshiped his cock. And then he would reciprocate most graciously.  At least, that’s what Albus had planned.

 

But first sexual experiences rarely happen in the idyllic way one imagines.

 

Scorpius’s lips worked down Albus’s body, leaving a trail of moist kisses from his neck, over his heaving chest, paying a brief visit to the rosy nub of his nipple, then travelled to his abdomen.  The rigorous training of quidditch had earned Albus a decent body at fifteen.  The definition of his abs was subtle, but apparent, and as Scorpius’s tongue traced the faint lines between the muscle planes, Albus inwardly thanked the captain of Slytherin’s team for their grueling workout routine. 

 

As if the praise from his boyfriend’s tongue was not enough, Scorpius whispered, letting his hot breath ghost above Albus’s navel, “You’re so sexy. I feel lucky to have you.” 

 

Albus propped his head on the pillows and glanced down. Scorpius’s eyes were ablaze with desire and his lips were shiny, wet and deliciously ruddy.  Albus’s heart was saying _I’m the lucky one._   But his heart’s pitter-pattering song of adoration was drowned out by the brash insistence of his cock.  _Shut up and put your pretty mouth on me._   Albus kept his loud inner voice from escaping by biting the corner of his bottom lip, though he could not stop his treacherous fingers from reaching down to tangle themselves in Scorpius’s voluminous blond locks.

 

Scorpius answered his wordless desperation with cruelty, keeping his silver blue eyes fixed upon Albus while he mouthed the hardened flesh tenting Albus’s underwear, right over the cotton fabric.  He placed open mouth kisses along the underside, tilting his head to take a good portion of Albus’s clothed girth between his lips.  Albus could feel the gentle pressure, but was denied the pleasure of wet heat. He wondered how a boy could be so mean, knowing full well the pain of being teased.  Of course, Albus didn’t really think Scorpius was inherently evil.  He had apparently just learned how to wield the power of his sexuality, and discovered how to drive his boyfriend mad with lust.

 

Scorpius gave a low, sensual growl as he brushed his lips, his chin, his cheek against Albus’s covered erection like an affectionate cat.  “Tell me what you want.”

 

It was then that Albus’s prior perception of giving head was completely obliterated.  To suck somebody’s cock was not to lower oneself to that of a subservient whore.  It was raw, unquestionable power.  With the promise of hot, wet pleasure, Scorpius held all the cards.  He was in complete control of the situation, the one able to deny or to gratify.  He dominated Albus right now.  Scorpius could make Albus beg or do anything for the gift of his soft lips.  Albus was already reduced to a vulnerable puddle of quivering need.  And Scorpius hadn’t even really done anything yet.  That sort of power could only be admired and obeyed.

 

Albus’s plea was a pathetic whimper.  “Please, Scor.  Suck my cock.”  He bucked his hips slowly, eagerly, desperate for Scorpius to set his arousal free and take control.

 

Slowly, and painfully so, Scorpius curled his fingers into the elastic of Albus’s underpants and pulled down, just enough for the head of Albus’s cock to peek out.  He swirled his tongue around the shiny, reddened flesh, letting the tip dip into the sticky slit.  Albus gave a short, violent shudder as his breath hitched.  The sensation was akin to smearing a wet thumb around the head of his cock, but accompanied with the bliss of Scorpius’s warm breath.  Scorpius tugged the fabric down further, letting Albus’s erection spring forth, pulsing with need.  He took the turgid flesh by the base, poised it towards his lips, and carefully lowered his face upon it, letting the head enter his mouth.  His lips closed around the smooth, swollen end, suckled gently, and released it with a delightful slurping sound.

 

Albus’s hadn’t realized how hard he was gripping Scorpius’s hair until he was told, very gently, “Relax, Lovely.”  With that, Scorpius flicked his tongue against the now achingly sensitive head of Albus’s cock and smiled softly.   Albus redirected his grasp to Scorpius’s shoulder, but was by no means relaxed.  He clamped down tightly, desperate for Scorpius to take him, panting softly.

 

Scorpius licked firmly along the underside of Albus’s cock, creating glistening stripes of saliva on his pink flesh.  His tongue felt soft, and hot, and moist, and _fuck_ so good.  As the moisture quickly evaporated and cooled his heated skin, Albus shivered.  This only made him yearn for more heat.  He undulated his hips, trying to encourage Scorpius to be more generous, and pleaded again.  This plea was more pathetic and needy than the first.  “Please, Snowflake.  Put it in your mouth.”

 

Albus glanced down again just as Scorpius flashed a devious little smirk.  He held Albus’s gaze as his lips parted just enough to accommodate the head of his cock.  Albus watched rapturously as the first half of his erection slowly disappeared into Scorpius’s mouth.  The sensation was beyond words.  To call it heaven, would be an understatement.  Albus’s hand instinctively reached for the back of Scorpius head, and it took all of his reserve not to push down, or to thrust himself upwards into the warm, wet cavern of Scorpius’s throat.

 

Scorpius curled his fingers around the half of Albus’s cock that he could not yet accommodate in his mouth.  His head bobbed gently as his lips gripped the turgid flesh firmly.  Albus could feel Scorpius’s tongue cradling the underside, slipping along and adding more moisture with each upward and downward motion.

 

Still, Albus wanted more.  He knew it was selfish, but part of him blamed Scorpius for pushing him to desperation.  He gave a strangled, pitiful moan and arched his arse off the bed just as Scorpius’s head was moving down upon his cock, forcing more of himself in.  Apparently not ready for this much cock in his mouth, Scorpius gagged and quickly lifted his head with a gasp, leaving Albus’s dick wet and comparatively cold.

 

Albus immediately regretted this rash act of desperation, creased his brow into an expression of both apology and horror, and pleaded for forgiveness in the way one would do after accidentally hitting somebody in the face, “I’m sorry, baby.  I couldn’t help it.  Are you alright?  Did I hurt you?”  He sat up quickly to survey the damage, though what sort of damage could a fifteen-year-old’s average sized penis really do?

 

Scorpius was blushing madly, dabbing away saliva from the corners of his mouth, and didn’t seem to be able to look Albus in the eye.  “I’m okay.  I guess I’m just crap at this,” he said sheepishly.

 

“Are you serious?”  Albus gave a small, incredulous huff.  “You’re not crap at it, you’re so fucking good I couldn’t control myself.”  He couldn’t believe that somebody, who seemed to have perfect command over another boy’s prick, could be unsure of his prowess.

 

Scorpius sighed as he buried his flushed face in his hand.  “I’m so embarrassed.  I gagged on your cock.  You must think I hate it.”

 

Albus hadn’t thought that at all, but now that Scorpius had mentioned it, he suddenly felt self-conscious about his penis.  Maybe he tasted bad – he had been sweating all day in his wool trousers, and leaking enough pre-come for a mild wet dream.  Maybe sucking somebody’s cock really was disgusting.  Perhaps he should have washed up beforehand.  The thought of his sweaty, sticky, musty dick was starting to turn him off.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t like it, you know.  I’ll understand,” said Albus, a bit embarrassed.

 

“I really like it, actually.”  Scorpius glanced at him with a coy little grin.  “The taste of you, the smell of you…” There was a little glimmer in his eyes, as if he were savoring the remnants of Albus in his mouth.  “It’s so masculine. So primal.”

 

Albus’s ego was now restored and boosted ten fold.  He realized another aspect of the power of sucking cock.  It was the ability to reinforce the receiver’s manhood.  Now Albus wanted nothing more than to feed his big manly cock to his boyfriend – _big_ and _manly_ being perceived rather than true physical attributes.

 

“Can we try it again?”  Albus asked, masking his eagerness with diffidence, and added, “I’ll keep my hands to myself this time.”

 

Scorpius tweaked the corner of his lips and spoke in that sensual drawl that could bring Albus’s cock to attention in the absence of touch.  “Maybe I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of An Education Series. Thanks to OhMyPumpkinPie and GoldnSnidgt for letting me use their RP characters in the story. Thanks to RicaResin and bexdracoamante for beta-reading. Inspired by WhiteLiesAlbie and ScorHMalfoy on Twitter. All original characters are mine except Bryce Zabini.


	3. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius is tutored in the art of seduction by an unconventional couple while summering on a French island in the Mediterranean. Albus will be pleased, but first sexual experiences rarely happen in the ideal way one imagines them. In this chapter, Scorpius remembers how to breathe.

_Breathe though your mouth and not through your nose,_ Scorpius thought to himself, as he let his boyfriend’s cock glide between his wet lips.  An involuntary jerking sensation at the back of his throat let him know that perhaps he should be doing the opposite.  He couldn’t help himself.  As much as he wanted to take all of Albus’s hardened length down his throat, he was unable to do it without feeling like he was suffocating.  He lifted his head and quickly took the turgid flesh into his fist while he composed himself, panting and willing his stupid gag-reflex to sort itself out.

 

“Snowflake, you don’t have to put it all the way in if you can’t,” Albus reassured him softly as he gently raked his fingers through his sweaty blond fringe, “It feels really good no matter what.”

 

No. He would master this.  He would overcome this unexpected physiological hurdle and suck his boyfriend’s cock properly.  “I can do it,” Scorpius declared determinedly, “Just give me a second to catch my breath.” 

 

 

He thought back to what he had learned this summer.  Guy and Julien had invited Scorpius onto the boat one other time and explicitly instructed him in the finer details of oral sex.  Julien had insisted that the only way Scorpius could learn was to practice and to experience.  He remembered sitting on his knees on the rug in front of the couch between Guy’s spread legs while Julien skillfully went down on his lover.  Scorpius had been so close he could feel the heat coming off their bodies, smell the coconut aroma of Julien’s tanning oil-slicked body, and practically taste the masculine briny flavor of Guy’s balls.  He had his shirt off and his cock out despite himself, and justified this indiscretion by not allowing himself to touch either of the two men, nor let them touch him.  The arrangement was respected, but Scorpius recalled fighting the urge to lean forward and lick the thick, engorged vein running along Guy’s spectacular cock.  He had beat off furiously while watching Julien take every inch of Guy’s erection with practiced ease.  Julien had made it seem effortless.

 

“Ne pensez pas à respire.  The key to deep-throating is to forget about breathing entirely,” instructed Guy, as he remained remarkably composed for someone whose cock was lodged firmly in the mouth of the most beautiful boy the French isle had ever seen.  “Of course, you _must_ breathe, but let it be second to the joy of eating dick. If you are too aware of your breathing, you will choke.”

 

“Respirez par le nez, pas par la bouche,” Julien suggested, after he had released Guy from his mouth with a vulgar slurping sound.

 

 

_You bloody British fool! He said to breathe through your NOSE, and NOT through your MOUTH!_   Scorpius wished his French and his recollection of the lesson had been better.  It made sense now that he had put the words to action.  Of course, one would suffocate if forced to breathe through their mouth when it was full of cock.

 

It was damn near impossible to make breathing secondary.  Perhaps he was trying too hard, thinking about it too much, being hyper-critical.  This was supposed to be fun, not an exercise.

 

“Scor, are you alright?” Albus snapped Scorpius out of his thoughts. 

 

He really was over-thinking this.  He glanced into Albus’ face and saw that he was completely flushed, as if he’d just stepped off his broom from a heated quidditch match against Gryffindor.  Scorpius smirked, knowing he’d done this to Albus with a few tricks of his mouth.  He felt empowered and eager to give his boyfriend more pleasure.

 

“I’m alright, Lovely.”  Scorpius flashed his bedroom eyes at his lover, smoothed a hand over Albus’s chest, and purred sensually, “Just lay back and relax.”

 

He held Albus by the base of his throbbing member and closed his mouth around the head, causing the boy to twitch and gasp softly upon contact.  Scorpius let the sensations take center stage, from the smoothness and heat of Albus’s cock to its pleasantly brackish flavor, leaving the act of breathing to the control of his subconscious.  Without really thinking about it, he took a deep breath through his nose and let it go as he moved his tight lips along the length of Albus’s cock, turning his head in a gentle corkscrew motion as he went down.  To Scorpius’s relief and to Albus’s utter delight, which he expressed quite verbally with moaned swear words, Scorpius took the entire turgid organ down his throat before gliding back up again.  He gave a low satisfied groan, which must have sent delicious vibrations along Albus’s engorged flesh, for the boy’s hips lifted off the bed and his fingers returned to the back of Scorpius’s blond hair as he swore fluently.

 

Scorpius watched Albus’s face as his mouth tightened, creating suction as his lips slid from base to head, hollowing his cheeks.  Albus’s eyelids were fluttering, his thick, dark lashes batting like black-winged moths over the brightness of his green eyes.  His parted lips were succulently moist and pink, matching the color of his cheeks.  The fringe of his hair was dark and wet, and clung to the sweat that beaded across his furrowed brow.  This was the face of somebody in utter ecstasy, and Scorpius’s own cock swelled knowing that he alone had affected Albus’s body this way.  He wielded this unique power proudly and realized he could use it to ensure that he was the _only_ person that would _ever_ make Albus feel this way.

 

He reached into his boxer briefs and yanked on his cock while sucking and slurping on Albus with the ravenous hunger of somebody who had been starved for days – unabashedly fervent, desperate, and messy.  He closed his eyes and let the sounds of his lover and the twitches of his body guide the progression of his mouth.  Albus was making a keen sound he’d never heard him make before.  It was a breathy little moan bordering on a whimper that rattled in Albus’ throat as he shivered.  That sound alone was urging Scorpius’s release towards the surface. Scorpius knew nobody else had heard this sound before and was determined to be the only one who could coax the sound out of him again.  The rush of possessiveness coursed through his body like fire in his veins, spurning him on despite the white sparks behind his eyelids that signaled lack of oxygen and the ache in his jaw.

 

“Fuck, Scor. I’m going to come,” Albus declared in a breathless, strangled voice.

 

Scorpius stopped dead and panicked.  He didn’t know what to do at this point.  He feared that he would choke if he took Albus’s spunk while his cock was fully swathed in his mouth.  He didn’t particularly like the idea of getting it in his eye if Albus spurt on his face.  So he pulled off his ripe member, kept his open mouth over the head with his tongue teasing against it, and continued to stroke the spit-slicked length feverishly.  Albus’s entire body shuddered as he came, spewing an unexpected volume of hot essence into Scorpius’s mouth, decorating his tongue with white, fluid ribbons.  He tasted briny and sweet and inherently masculine – there was no reluctance or aversion when Scorpius swallowed, smirking proudly, moaning contentedly.  Albus shivered with the aftershocks of orgasm when Scorpius put the pulsing organ back in his mouth and sucked it clean, swirling his tongue around the sticky head.

 

Albus was still quivering slightly when Scorpius collapsed beside him on the bed, threw an arm around him, and kissed him firmly on the mouth, careful to keep his lips closed, lest Albus want a taste of his own spunk.  To Scorpius’s surprise, he felt Albus’s tongue teasing at his bottom lip, seeking entrance.  He parted his lips and Albus kissed him wetly, scavenging the remnants of come in his mouth with a probing tongue.

 

Albus turned and mumbled hotly between kisses, “You swallowed.”  He moaned, threading his fingers into Scorpius’s hair to keep their lips close, “I can taste myself in your mouth.  Fuck, that is so sexy.  Merlin, feel me, Scor.”  He took Scorpius by the wrist and pressed his still-turgid cock into his palm.  “I’m still so fucking hard,” he declared breathily, “I want to make you feel this good.  Please, let me suck your cock.”

 

Scorpius had never seen Albus so desperate with desire, not even when he was sucking him off moments before.  There was something dark and dirty flickering like sparks in his emerald eyes.  He knew he had achieved his goal – Albus and Scorpius had progressed beyond awkward teenage petting and were now delving into the hot, wet depths of real sex.  Granted, it wasn’t intercourse, but it was just as primal and decidedly adult.  It was both exciting and terrifying.  Scorpius hoped that Albus would still love him the same way after crossing this line.  That unfamiliar glimmer in Albus’s eyes made Scorpius wonder if the purity of their love had gone forever.

 

Scorpius brushed the fringe out of Albus’s brow, searching his eyes for the innocent boy he fell in love with at eleven, the boy who regarded him as an angelic snowflake.  Staring back at him were the eyes of a man with his soul ablaze, and Scorpius wondered why he had ever wanted Albus to look at him this way, the way Julien and Guy looked at each other.  Julien and Guy did not love each other, he realized now.  They weren’t even really lovers – Guy was a dirty old man fucking a greedy whore.  How could he have thought that these two men were actually role models?

 

“Albie,” Scorpius whimpered, taking Albus’ face in his hands gently, “Do you still love me?”

 

Albus blinked in a startled way, his eyebrows arched, and a little wrinkle creased between them.  He looked hurt and vulnerable, like a boy.  In an instant, the darkness left his eyes.  They glistened with unshed tears.  Scorpius felt a cool sting streaking down his flushed cheeks and realized he was the one crying.

 

“Snowflake,” Albus murmured softly, “Of course I still love you.”  He pressed their lips together gently.  “Don’t cry.”  He softly brushed Scorpius’s tears away with his lips.  “I love you more than ever.  Gods, you’ve given me this wonderful gift and all I want to do is repay you.”  He hugged Scorpius so tightly that it hurt, though the crush was sweet with adoration and sticky with sweat.

 

Scorpius smiled with his face buried in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck.  He was beginning to understand that sex did not define his relationship with Albus – it was a mere expression of it.  As long as they loved each other, sex would always be just another way of showing each other their love, no matter how dirty the act was.  The possessive way Scorpius took Albus was further testament to his love.  Albus belonged to him, both his heart and his body, as Scorpius belonged to Albus.

 

“You don’t have to repay me,” Scorpius mumbled against Albus’s warm, dewy skin, “Just love me.”

 

“Can’t I repay you with walnut fudge?” Albus joked.

 

“No, with a little penis,” Scorpius teased in return.

 

“But I just gave you a little penis,” said Albus.

 

Scorpius purred and rubbed his palm over Albus’s half-hard member.  “You just gave me a _lot_ of penis.” Then he took Albus’s hand, kissed his wrist just above the leather and coral bracelet, and said, “ _I_ gave you a _little_ penis.”

 

Albus giggled.  “You said it was an octopus.”

 

Just as the door creaked open, Scorpius replied with a chuckle, “I’m gay. I don’t like octopus, I prefer penis.”

 

“Not this again,” came Bryce’s exasperated voice, along with the sound of several shuffling feet through the door.

 

From behind the closed curtains of the bed, Albus and Scorpius reprised their chant from last night.  “Penis, penis, penis, penis, penis…”

 

Albus broke the chant to reprimand their intrusive roommates.  “Oi!  Does a tie on the door knob not mean anything to you lot anymore?”

 

“Not when there’s ten minutes until Potions,” said Bryce stiffly.

 

Scorpius swore and scrambled for his clothes.  As he rushed to put himself back together, he whispered to Albus, “If you want to repay me with something other than fudge, we could go under the quidditch stadium tonight.”

 

Albus moaned teasingly, “Ooh one-on-one quidditch practice.  You know how to get me hot, baby.”

 

Scorpius took Albus by the back of the head and pressed a firm kiss to his lips.  He drawled softly, “You’re going to swallow me.”

 

Albus smirked and raised an eyebrow.  “How do you know I won’t spit?”

 

Scorpius returned his smirk.  “Because you love me.”

 

“I do.”  Albus gently leaned his forehead against Scorpius’s.  “Don’t you ever forget it again.”

 

 

Scorpius and Albus emerged from behind the bed curtains, looking disheveled and still slightly flushed.  As they walked with the other boys to their next lesson, Lloyd nudged Albus and asked within earshot of Scorpius, “So is he a spunk-gargler or a come-swallower?”

 

Albus smacked Lloyd’s arm with a shocked gasp, blushing furiously.  “That’s still none of your fucking business.”

 

“I swallowed.  And he tasted so fucking good,” taunted Scorpius.  He caught Lloyd by surprise, licking him on the cheek playfully.

 

Lloyd shrieked like a banshee as he wiped furiously at his cheek, “Ew!  I’ve got Potter’s sperm on my face!”

 

All the boys erupted into raucous laughter, Lloyd included.  Even Bryce snorted with amusement.  “Say it a little louder, Warrington.  I don’t think they heard you in Gryffindor Tower.”

 

Lloyd was the sort of boy who was secure enough in his manhood and silly enough not to let these allusions bother him.  He announced, to nobody in particular, “Attention, ladies!  I advise you not to kiss me, despite your urges.  There is Potter sperm on my face.  You are libel to get pregnant.  I repeat--”

 

To shift the subject from his sperm to something else, Albus began the penis chant again.  Bryce sighed and stepped aside, giving him a wide berth as they walked.  Scorpius and Lloyd added their voices to the chant as it echoed through the corridor.

 

“Penis, penis, penis, penis…”

 

Garret, who had caught up with the boys after a short stint in the hospital wing, joined the chorus.

 

“Penis, penis, penis, penis…”

 

It was infectious.  Soon the entire corridor rang with the din of boys chanting.

 

“Penis, penis, penis, penis…”

 

Professor Scamander rounded the corner, entering the corridor with a confused expression – not that that was an unusual expression for her.

 

Quickly, Scorpius changed the chant to “Octopus, octopus, octopus,” which caught on like fiend fire.  This inexplicably brought a smile to Scamander’s face.  She took up the chant, nodding her head as she walked by.  “Octopus, octopus, octopus…”

 

At dinner, somebody randomly began the chant from the Hufflepuff table.  “Octopus, octopus, octopus…”  It spread like a wave to the neighboring tables, until every student without inhibitions took up the chant (notably, many of the Ravenclaws would not participate.)

 

The professors at the staff table allowed the chant to rise and fall, seeing it as some sort of rally cry, which was not unusual to hear in the Great Hall during quidditch season.

 

Scorpius leaned over to Albus and giggled.  “Nothing like a little penis to bring all four houses together.”

 

 

~A/S~

 

 

_Dear Monsieur Levesque,_

_It was very nice to make your acquaintance this summer at L’Adrienne._

_I just wanted to thank you for the invaluable lessons you and Julien gave me.  I put your teachings into practice right away upon my return to boarding school in Scotland.  My boyfriend was extremely pleased._

_In the event that you see Julien again, you may tell him that I swallow, and proudly so.  My boyfriend also swallows, quite proficiently, I might add._

_I doubt I will be able to take advantage of the pleasure of your company again next summer, for my parents are ever so strict, much more so than my gran-mere.  But please know that I’m grateful for your hospitality aboard Neaira and will cherish the memories of our brief time together dearly._

_Sincerely,_

_SHM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of An Education Series. Thanks to OhMyPumpkinPie and GoldnSnidgt for their help with the French translations and for letting me use their RP characters in the story. Thanks to RicaResin and bexdracoamante for beta-reading. Inspired by WhiteLiesAlbie and ScorHMalfoy on Twitter. All original characters are mine except Bryce Zabini.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of An Education Series. Thanks to OhMyPumpkinPie and GoldnSnidgt for their help with the French translations and for letting me use their RP characters in the story. Thanks to RicaResin and bexdracoamante for beta-reading. Inspired by WhiteLiesAlbie and ScorHMalfoy on Twitter. All original characters are mine except Bryce Zabini. Thank you to the town of Ajaccio for inspiration and perfect days at the beach, which unfortunately never ended for me like they did for Scorpius.


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